So most of you have heard me talk about my gingered bestie who is heading for the aisle next year. Well a few weeks ago, two maids and the ginger bride went antiquing, and no this had nothing to do with flour. After a lovely lunch, where we happily consumed a $10 pitcher of Firefly Sweet Tea, we headed for the local antique shops, in search of “stuff”. We didn’t really know what we were looking for, but turns out ole Fritz the shop owner had treasure in store for us.
We knew we were looking for oars. The old, vintage distressed looking kind. I’m not telling you what these are for. You’re just going to have to wait. But way in the back of Fritz’s house of treasures, we found a whole bunch of them. And picked up two, that were begging for a new life in the fresh wedding air. Scoop.
Earlier in the week a few of us had received an email… subject line “Mason Jar Mission”. Seriously. We like mason jars, and signature drinks are kind of a big deal, and really you can’t just serve them in regular highball glasses. No. What’s the fun in that.
Mason jars turns out… kind of hard to find for a relatively decent price. That is until we met Fritz. After stumbling on one box of 10 or so dusty olf mason jars, we asked Fritz if he had anymore.
Fritz: “How many do you need?”
Us: “A lot”
Fritz: “Well I got more than you probably need.”
Me: “Don’t count on it. Where’s the stash?”
He asked us to follow him down to the basement. For whatever reason, me, the most untrusting of the three had complete confidence in Fritz and that a bevy of mason jars awaited pre-packed in boxes ready to go. The ginger bride and maid were apparently exchanging nervous glances and checking for cell reception in the event that we were abducted and locked in the antique store basement.
As usual… I was right.
We were not in fact kidnapped, and instead bestowed four full boxes of mason jars, that we carried back upstairs to haggle prices with ole Fritz.
Somehow… we made off with over 65 mason jars, and two vintage oars for $40. FORTY DOLLARS!
Amazing.
We drive a hard bargain, and really, let’s be honest. Fritz couldn’t wait to get rid of those jars. They weren’t even on display. Hell, we freed up all kinds of space in his basement for storing other amazing treasures. (This is what we’re telling ourselves as we threw everything in the car and sped off before he realized that we robbed him blind.)
What can I say? We’re a hard bargained bunch of upstate ladies with the southern charm to match.
After a quick hosing off, a dunk in the bleach bucket and two or three runs in the dishwasher, those dusty jars were shiny as ever, just waiting for a little liquid love on wedding day.
Stay tuned…
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